


Not Only Once

by Basil_Gray



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Multi, Reincarnated Harry, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:12:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basil_Gray/pseuds/Basil_Gray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart always knew that there was something peculiar about him. Since he was a young boy he had dreams of a beautiful young man named Gary with exceptional green eyes and fair hair. He always thought that image was a random conjuration of his mind until he comes across an an old box in an antique shop when he is 17 that he just happens to have the key for, a key that had been passed down in his family by some long forgotten relative.<br/>AU: soulmates and reincarnation and all that il-fated love stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tutor's Letter

**Author's Note:**

> "Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,  
> And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er  
> The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,  
> Which I new pay as if not paid before  
> But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,  
> All losses are restor'd and sorrows end” Sonnet 30, lines 9-14

_April 26 th, 1616_

_I am beside myself. No amount of Catholic or Protestant teaching could ever prepare myself against the feelings I have been raging against. As I am writing this now, I know that I am putting myself and my family’s reputation in danger. As for my soul, it has already burned away from the sinful fires your sweet smile conjured when you looked up at me from beneath my protective grasp; such a familiar feeling overcame me then, and I felt like I had loved you many lifetimes before. Though it may seem like a harmless moment shared between a young man and his mentor, that moment still plays through my mind like a neverending Scene from a very much forbidden Act. And, it had been innocent at first when you had climbed up into that tree. You had insisted that we take a break from your studies so you could show me how quickly a privileged Earl’s son could scale the large maple we often studied under. But, what you or I didn’t anticipate was the weak branches that would break under your weight, and I not wanting to explain to your father how you became hurt, or worse, killed, stood quickly to catch you. Your body collided into mine, and I lost my footing on the dewy grass. We were both there on the ground, laughing, and you stared up at me with eyes a much more attractive green than any garden I’ve trekked; your lips were a fairer shade of red than any lady I’ve held, and your fair auburn hair was a million different shades of copper and gold. I was besotted. After that il-fated day every prose and sonnet became you, and I worried that even my ever so faithful and patient wife would begin to see it as well, if she did she has never said. Even now as I recount the most beautiful memory of my life, I immortalize him one more time in my final prose as I lay here waiting for death to take me with his big black wings. You are my last sweet silent thought. And now I dare to say it, I have loved you from that moment and many years now. I cannot say that this is my only regret, but it is one that sends a pain through my heart when my thoughts dare dwell on it. That regret which I speak of is that I did not kiss you then despite all reason and propriety. If then, had I conveyed my feelings to him in such a way, would I have had the honor of knowing his thoughts towards me? Mutual or not, I will never know now, and I must leave this world as so. I pray that my soul does not become restless because of it. Though my love was never confessed nor known by any other while I breathed, I will not let it die with me, but leave it in this letter for another to read when I am long dead. That someone will know that I had lived and loved and unending love for one Earl Gary Unwin, of where I will not say in order to protect my dear boy at least one last time. And now I will finish with these final words, good night sweet boy, and may I find you again with more courage and bravery than I had in this world when my eyes open from their final sleep._

_Eternally yours,_

_H.H_

Harry gripped the letter tightly in his hand and threw his head back in disbelief at what he just read. It was as if he had written it himself, but he couldn’t have he was seventeen years old, and this was 1977! This was not 1616, and he was definitely not an older man at the end of his life. But, everything the man had depicted in the letter was exactly what he had dreamt of since he was old enough to remember such things.

He was too young to even begin to understand what was going on. He just sat there on his once neatly made bed. It was the first of many letters inside the box he had picked up from the hole-in-the wall antique shop around the corner from his home, and as he flipped through them he realized that someone had put them in order so that the oldest letter would be read first which meant that at someone at some point either owned this key too or had one exactly like it. He didn’t read them all, not yet at least, his mind too blown away by the first letter, but he skimmed through the rest some dated from 1716, 1816, and with the last letter dated 1916 with letters from years in between as well. All of them had one thing in common; they all contained the name Gary Unwin and the initials H.H.

Harry neatly folded the letters and put them back in order inside of the box. He still wasn’t certain what this meant himself, so he locked the box with the key that had been given to him when he was too young to remember. He traced his fingers over the signet on the box, and then peered at the same one that was on the key. Not wanting to explain to anyone else what he couldn’t explain to himself, Harry hid the box away in his closet until he was ready to begin reading them again. Until then he was going to do what any young man in a new city would do, explore, and hope that he could get his mind off of the craziness that was his mind at the moment. But one thing he couldn't shake from his thoughts the rest of the day, and that was the initials H.H. Initials that were the same as his own.


	2. The Jacobite's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reads another letter and notices a pattern in the events leading up to the H.H's demises and quickly discovers the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really educated on the Jacobite Rebellion history, but I'm using it for plot stuff and of course have bent it to work for my fic since it's an au and stuff (excuses). lol

It was late in the night, and Harry knew he should be asleep, but his thoughts kept dragging back to the eerie box of letters buried in his closet. He flipped his table lamp light on and fetched the box from its hiding spot. Before opening the box, he cracked his bedroom door opened and listened for any possible interruptions. When he was sure there would be none, Harry hurried back to his bed and emptied the contents of the box on his sheets. There had only been one letter from the H.H of 1616, a death bed confession it seemed, and he really doubt that the man had wrote any other letters about his beloved Gary Unwin.

Harry picked up the next letter dated sometime in January of 1716 the ink had long been smeared by what may have been exposure to some kind of moisture which looked like rain drops or perhaps tears. Harry did his best to decipher what story this H.H had to tell. The Letter began as almost like a formal introduction of himself to a reader. This H.H, Harry learned, was an Englishman in the Jacobite army. Harry remembered his studies and knew things couldn’t have ended so nicely for the man.

           _“It is late and the men are resting for what we are all anticipating as the last battle for this band of men. A doomed rebellion from the beginning, but we all fought for what we believed in. I should be resting as well, but I can’t get the thought of you out of my mind. I keep replaying the last twenty-four hours we spent together. The most unexpected twenty-four hours I had ever experienced. We just finished a skirmish, and I was wounded, shot on the side, but I still continued to chase after you through all the smoke passed all the wounded and dead. Your group had already long left, and I guessed that you had come back to look for survivors of your own, after all you were just a scout or so I assumed. You ran quickly, but I chased relentlessly after you before collapsing from blood loss and exhaustion. I expected you to leave me in the unforgiving elements, but to my surprise you looked back at me with a torn look. I could tell that you wanted to keep running, but you were born to always do the right thing no matter what. And to you that was to help me, your enemy. You approached me and bent down to help me sit up so my face wasn’t buried in the moist dirt. It was then that I got to look into your emerald eyes. I had never wanted to not look away nor have I ever seen something, someone, so beautiful in my life. I was bewitched instantly by the sympathetic look on your face. Your countenance screamed sincerity and kindness, and I no longer hated you. You realized from the gathering of the clouds that it was going to rain soon, and you dragged me to some rocks that served as a nice shelter for us from the rain. You began to tear pieces of cloth from your top, and I knew what is was for. I watched you as you gently undid my top, and for a moment I thought I saw something flash across your eyes as you stared down at my abdomen, and I was sure it wasn’t my wound as it didn’t look that bad, at least not to me. I watched your face and felt your fingertips tremble across the muscles of my stomach as they reached my wound, touches that I deemed unnecessary and were sure they were solely for your own benefit. After you finished bandaging me, the rain began just as you predicted and we were forced to wait out the storm together. During that time I listened to you tell me tales of your life before the rebellion. Your name was Gary Unwin, and you were still quite young, not even in College yet. You had a baby sister which you adored above all else in life, and for the first time in years I prayed to God that you would make it home to see her grow up. You talked until you fell asleep, your head sliding to rest unconsciously on my shoulder, and I took this chance to smooth the crusted hair from your forehead. I even dared to let those fingers slide down your face tracing the beautiful expansion of your jaw and letting my thumb reach out to caress your perfect lips that were parted slightly from sleep. I don’t know when it was that I fell asleep, but when I awoke you were gone and the only trace of you was the torn pieces of your shirt around my waist. My bandages have been changed since then, but I permitted myself to keep just a piece, a token to remind me that you did indeed exist. Mr. Unwin, Gary, this letter I am certain will never reach you, but I feel as though I must tell you here now, I have fallen in love with you, and I dare to say at first sight. Your pureness that was conveyed through your stories only solidified that feeling. I have said it, and now I am ready to face what awaits me at dawn. This letter along with its box and key I will send off with a young messenger boy where they will send it back to my home in England where I may not ever see it again. May angels watch over you sweet boy._

_Yours,_

_H.H"_

Harry recalled from history class the events that took place after the letter was written. He was sure that this H.H died in combat or was executed later with the rest of the remaining men. Harry let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding, “This poor bloke can’t catch a break. That is if they are even the same person or we…me?” He looks over at the book on his night stand titled Reincarnation and Other Supernatural Phenomena. Harry never believed in such things the natural world was just that, and there was nothing above or below. It had always been a comfort for him knowing that when it was his time that that was it and nothing else. But, now he wasn’t sure what to believe, and that made him uneasy. “I’ve got it! If this ‘reincarnation’ thing is the case, all I have to do is avoid this Gary Unwin, it’s obvious he’s the problem.” Gary wasn’t just the problem though, and Harry knew that; it was falling in love with him as well, and that thought boggled Harry because he had never felt a physical or mental connection with anyone. Even at such a young age relationships were built on what he could gain from the other person. “This should be easy.” Harry says confidently.

Harry folds up the letter, and goes through his routine of locking the box and hiding it away. He glances over at the book one last time and decides to flip through where he left off. “Do your dreams occur during a certain period in time? Are there people reoccurring in those dreams that you don’t recognize from real life? If so, your soul may be recalling memories from your past life. Memories can also occur while awake as memories that feel out of place and make you question whether you experienced them or not...” Harry read on until light started to trickle through his bedroom curtains. He closed the book and closed his eyes wondering what dream or memory he’d be having this time.

12\. 19. 97

It had been many years since Harry found the box of letters, and everywhere he went he kept the box close to himself so that no one would ever discover it. Now a grown man with a home of his own he feels quite comfortable with it sitting casually in his office. He glances up from his laptop to look over at the box, but only for a moment as he is getting prepared to deliver unfortunate news to his recruit’s widow. Harry picks up the medal and slides it into his pocket as he makes his way out the door and to the Kingsman cab. His teeth worries at his lips as he thinks about Lee’s family he will be meeting for the first. He knew that the boy’s name was Gary Unwin, and it should be nothing for him to worry about.

Every other Gary Unwin he has known has been nothing like the one in his dreams, and all had come and gone in his life leaving no significant impression on it, so why should it be different now? But, doubt crept at the back of his mind, “No…fate would be thirty years too late,” he whispers to himself reassuringly and his mind returned to it's natural calm. Harry is greeted at the door by an unexpected Mrs. Unwin and guilt pangs at him for the grief that he’s about to bring her. She sits him down, and he goes through the motions of his well-practiced speech. He hands her the medal after, but she slaps it away insisting that she rather have her husband, and for a moment Harry can relate with her as a sudden feeling of wanting someone you’ve lost overcomes him.

Harry quickly recognizes that this isn’t like all the other times, but that the feeling was much more intense now, and pushing him almost to tears. Harry wanted to quickly get out of there before his cool and calm visage broke, but he knew he owed it to Lee to leave some kind of lifeline for his family, so Harry walked smoothly over to little Gary Unwin playing on the floor. He greets the boy and asks for his name. The boy looks up at him and replies, “Eggsy.” A set of large round emerald eyes stare up at him complimenting his fair auburn hair, and Harry internally screams a string of profanities. “Hello Eggsy,” he says to the boy and hands him the medal urging him to always remember the words “Oxfords not Brogues” personally hoping that the boy would never have to use them.

Harry rushes quickly to the Kingsman cab, and when he is safely inside he contacts Merlin.

"Yes Galahad?" Merlin calls his voice thick with his accent and exhaustion from previous events.

"I need you to keep me busy and preferably across the other side of the world for a while." Harry tells him desperately.

"How long are we talking?"

Harry takes a breathe, "Until I'm dead if possible, or too old to give a fuck works just as well." Merlin asks what has brought on his sudden exaggerated request, but Harry dodges the question, and switches off his glasses wanting to be left alone with his thoughts not H.H's thoughts.

 

Also here's a very cheeky 24 year old Colin Firth (weeps from how perfect he is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo chapter two! Thank you all who are reading this! I really appreciate it. Modern day chapters will be much longer than these last two chapters so don't worry those who like long chapters! ^-^


	3. Eggsy Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title says Eggsy “wakes up” it just takes an accident to do it. Also, Eggsy has a preference he’ll never admit out loud, at least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: My Eggsy is a big Crywolf fan, it’s his guilty pleasure something he listens to when it’s just him or Daisy. 
> 
> “I think I wanted you to come down  
> I think I wanted you to ease my pain  
> I swear I'm trying to forget you  
> But you keep running circles through my brain  
> Is this love that I've found?  
> Is this a new beginning?” – Ribcage, Crywolf

Today was just like any other normal day for Eggsy and his two best mates Ryan and Jamal except it wasn’t. They had managed to spend the whole day without getting into trouble with dean and his goons or the local authorities, and somehow managed ending up at the park.

Definitely not a particular place he would be with his friends on a nice, rare, sunny day, but maybe was somewhere he’d most likely be with his baby sis Daisy. But, they were here and there wasn’t much else to do so why not? Not a very normal day for them at all.

They walked around and Eggsy noted the different kinds of people and activities going on in the park. There were dog walkers and joggers, some people laid out on blankets reading books or typing away on their phones. Eggsy also noted the number of couples sitting under the trees doing their best to shield themselves out of the view of others while they made out, but they weren’t fooling anyone.

They began to walk further into the park until they came up to a slightly larger tree with low hanging branches and Eggsy gets an idea. “Hey I bet I could scale that tree faster than you two.” Eggsy points to the tree and Ryan and Jamal look back at each other and then to the tree. “Yeah? And wot ya gonna bet?” Jamal shoots back at Eggsy, “I’ll take the rap for ya guys next time we get inta anything IF ya both can beat my time.” Eggsy smirks at his two mates with too much confidence.

They decide it amongst each other and agree, “But if we don’t?” Eggsy thinks about it for a second, “Then ya owe me drinks for the next week.

“Fine” they both say at the same time.

Ryan decides that he’s going first, hoping that he’ll set the bar high and make Eggsy nervous so that he’ll slip up. Ryan finishes and comes back down, and Eggsy is impressed with his time, but is still confident he’ll have the better score, “’Ere let me show you how a gymnast does it.” Eggsy says cheekily, and Jamal says, “Ex-gymnast.”

“Same thing bruv,” Eggsy says, but before he can say anything else a wave of déjà vu hits him like he’s never felt before. “Hey, have we done this before?” Eggsy asks curiously, but then shakes his head when his mates look at him funny.

“Nevermind.” Eggsy tells them to start the timer after he takes his first leap, and hops up using the lowest branch to pull himself up and quickly gets into the rhythm as he climbs from one branch to another. He’s doing well, even better than Ryan until his vision becomes a bit blurry, and when it clears it’s not his own hands that he sees anymore, or at least they seem to be, but Eggsy doesn’t remember ever wearing, much less owning, a signet ring.

The image before him startles him and he feels his grip on the tree, on reality, slipping and a very foreign thought crosses Eggsy’s mind before everything goes black, “Harry’s not here to catch me this time.”

_Gary looks up at his tutor. The fall hadn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would have if Harry wasn’t there to break his fall. Eggsy admires the creases around his eyes and how at ease his very serious tutor is laughing above him, and it only makes Eggsy’s smile wider. Harry was always handsome to him, but this Harry he wanted to see more of, curly hair disheveled and laughing without fear of propriety._

_Gary knows that they’ve been laying there longer than necessary, but neither had made the move to get up, and Gary was hoping that the other was just as comfortable and content like he was. Gary thought about what would happen if he would just raise up enough to close the small space between them and kiss Harry, maybe tuck that beautiful curl that freed itself back behind Harry’s ear._

_He was sure that he would be in a lot of trouble, but it would be so worth it to know what Harry tastes  like. Gary’s fantasy was interrupted more quickly than he wanted when Harry’s dark, serious eyes peered down at him. All trace of smiles were gone. Gary thought that maybe he had accidently said something out loud to cause him to receive such a glare, but he noticed that Harry was thinking about something of his own._

_He could see the conflicting feelings flash across Harry’s eyes, and Gary tried his best to not let that show, and so he continued to smile up at him like nothing had happen. Harry suddenly glances down at his lips, and then back up to meet his eyes. He says nothing, and instead rises, offering a hand for Gary to take, which he reluctantly takes._

_He wants to say something to him, but hesitates. He never hesitated for something he wanted in his life, but he was cautious with Harry, careful to never screw anything up to cause the man to want to leave like all the others. And so he let him walk away._

_“I think I love you Harry Hart.” He whispers to the back walking away from him._

Eggsy’s vision comes through, spotty at first but then clear as he notices the familiar faces staring down at him. “Yo Eggs, you ok bruv?” Jamal asks offering a hand to help him up. “Nevermind that, who the fuck is Harry Hart?” Ryan asks with a million other questions in the look he gives Eggsy, and Eggsy hopes _and why do you love him_ wasn’t one of them.

“So who is he bruv?” Ryan continues to pester him on their way back to Jamal’s flat, and Eggsy told him for the millionth time he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Ya definitely said it Eggs,” Jamal chimed in.

“Look I told ya guys I aint gay ok, and I definitely don’t know who the fuck ya guys are talking about.” Eggsy was telling this more to himself than to his mates, but something in the back of his mind disagreed with him. Like he was telling a lie he realized. He fought with his mind for the rest of the way drowning out all other questions his mates threw his way.

Eggsy can’t sleep that night. Every time he closes his eyes it’s another dream. They’re not horrible dreams, save for one, but they leave him feeling hot and cold, shaking, and like he’s feeling a thousand different emotions all at once. Like he’s coming down from drugs he thinks to himself. Eggsy gets up to go to the loo, thankful that the door to his mother’s bedroom is shut.

When he flips on the light he almost scares himself as he stares at the hollow look in his eyes and his pale complexion. Eggsy splashes cold water on himself, and grabs a water bottle from the fridge on his way back to his room. He closes his eyes one more time hoping for some relief.

 

Eggsy grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white as he stares at the obnoxious blinking lights in front of them. For once he had hoped that he could be a complete arse and abandon his friends to take the blame, knowing that he could easily get away before they would realize what was going on.

But, he wasn’t that kind of guy, “Get out,” he told them, and yelled a second time when they tried to protest. And so Eggsy was sitting in an interrogation room, not his first time as the officer likes to remind him, his demeanor cocky as he thinks he could get Eggsy to rat out his friends any moment now, his best mates to be exact.

Eggsy zones out as the officer explains to him what his two options are, and his thoughts linger until a more agreeable image is in front of him. He blushes internally at the sight of a very handsome man in a World War One uniform, and blushes even more when he admits to himself that he much preferred this older version of Harry from his dreams.

This harry made him feel safe with his intense stare and his warm half-smile not like the hungrier, younger versions of Harry. Eggsy caught himself wishing that this Harry would materialize and come save him like all the other times, but he knew this was the real world, and the real world didn’t have fairy tales with posh blokes that whisk you off your feet, unless you were Grace Kelly or Kate Middleton.

Eggsy knows he isn’t even close to being either one of them and comes back to reality shaking the image of Harry away. He asks for his one free call in which the officer replies that he should tell his mom that he will be eighteen months late to dinner, or something like that he wasn’t really paying attention. He pulls out the unique looking medal and flips it around dialing the numbers on the back.

A woman finally answers the phone and Eggsy slips on his words, first giving her his nickname and then his real one. She’s about to hang up until he remembers to tell her the three words he’s said to himself since he was seven years old like they were a mantra, “Oxfords not brogues?” The lady thanks him and lets him know that his complaint will be filed. And like those three words were magic, Eggsy was released. He walks out the glass doors and almost keeps walking until a very familiar voice calls out to him.

Eggsy turns around knowing he must be going crazy until he sees his soldier leaning against the wall, but except he wasn’t in his usual attire and instead was wearing an expensive well-tailored suit that he was sure cost more than what his mom brings home on a good month.

 _Shit_. Eggsy mentally curses. He knows that people don’t just materialize into real life when you want them to. No amount of wishing on shooting stars or kissing frogs either. He knows he must be crazy, but talks back to the apparition as if he had never seen him before, demanding to know who he was, but secretly scared of what he will hear.

“My name is Harry Hart, and I’m the one who gave you that medal.” The apparition says to him, and Eggsy feels like he’s been hit by a bus. _Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said the chapters were going to be longer when we got to modern Eggsy and Harry, but I wanted a strictly Eggsy chapter, so I hope you can forgive me. ;u;
> 
> Also wanted to make it clear that Harry and Eggsy have the same age gap in all reincarnations thats why I put the underage warning. I'll need it for later chapters.


	4. A Too Perfect Second Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a rather arousing second impression on Eggsy in the Black Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted an excuse to imagine Eggsy in regency clothing. Ya feel me? 
> 
> Also my mouse pad was sticking so if anything is weird I'm sorry I'll look over it again tomorrow or later tonight. And I changed some things last minute so if some paragraphs seem out of place i apologize, I plan on going through and making sure that each has a smooth/smoother transition. Thank you for being patient with me! (but if it seems alright to you please lemme know it'll save me so much time)

It had not been long since his plane landed, and he was once again driving through the familiar streets of London. Twenty years had almost past since he had finally settled back in his home, completely unpacking his suitcase with no intention of dashing off at sudden notice.

Merlin had done well at keeping his word the last seventeen years, and although Harry did make short trips home to tend to personal things, most of that time rereading the letters and making sure he didn’t miss any important details over the years, Merlin had made sure that he was as far from London as geography would allow it.

Harry wanted to be happy, relieved, that he was finally allowed to settle back home, but it wasn’t exactly on joyful terms. He had lost a friend, and a fellow agent. And now Harry knew that he would have to spend his free time finding a proposal for the newly opened position of Lancelot.

He had ideas, and was already profiling some of his mate’s sons from military school. Harry had just logged into his laptop when Merlin beeped in. “Yes, Merlin.” Harry greeted, and sighed as he had just talked to the man a few minutes ago. It’s not like he didn’t want to talk to Merlin, they were close and almost always on good terms as long as Harry didn’t do something outrageous during a mission to worry the scot.

“Galahad, you’ll never guess who Kingsman just got a call from, though I can’t say you’re going to be too excited about this.”

Harry knew that Merlin liked to personally deliver him all his bad news, so he knew that whatever it was it was certain to add to Harry’s already bad week. “Is this the part where you tell me I should be sitting down if I’m not already?” Harry replies with a little more attitude than he had intended.

“It could help yes,” Merlin says and takes a breath before continuing, ”Your kryptonite called and apparently he’s in a lot of trouble since his call was traced to the detention center downtown.”  Harry felt a surge of adrenaline, the kind he got when caught off guard or chasing down his mark like a predator.

“So what do you want me to do about it? You know I’m busy choosing my candidate, can’t you handle it, you know wiggle your brows do that little typing magic thing you do? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Merlin didn’t say anything which indicated to Harry that he was busy pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration. “Harry, he’s your responsibility you’re not running away from this one this time.” Harry felt like there was a double meaning in Merlin’s words, but there couldn’t be because he had never told anyone about his supposed reincarnation or the letters.

“But what about my candidate?”

“Eggsy can be your candidate, there problem solved. Look how I just saved you all that work you’re welcome.” Merlin said cheekily, enjoying the whining protest coming from his friend.

“Send me his files.” Harry said flatly in defeat. He went over them in the car on his way to the station learning every little detail of this Gary Unwin. He was impressed with some of what he found, but was equally unimpressed as well. He wondered if the other Gary’s had fallen into a similar path after he was gone, and closed his eyes to recall the last memory he had of Gary Unwin in 1816.

  _Just a rich boy at the time with no guidance, having just been orphaned and received quite the inheritance. Harry had taken it upon himself to keep the boy busy to keep him out of trouble, after all Gary was pure and impressionable at only fifteen. Although Harry’s personal life wasn’t particularly the ideal image he wanted Gary to see him as, he thought that he could keep that part of his life shielded from him and somehow redeem himself by being the proper mentor for young Gary Unwin._

_But misfortune seemed to follow Harry wherever he went, and this time showed up in the form of a very jealous ex-lover who was hell-bent on taking away anything that brought him happiness. Harry tried to entertain the man as to not provoke him to_ _reveal to Gary all of his dirty little secrets. It had worked for a while, but he noticed that he was slowly losing the boy as he had started to disappear on Harry without canceling their prior engagements, and not showing up to his painting lessons that Harry offered to give him during his spare time._

_Harry allowed himself into Gary’s house as he waited for the young man to return home after again bailing on his and Harry’s prior arrangements without as much as a message or an apology card like he would sometimes leave in his home knowing that Harry would come to check on him and see it there in his place._

_Harry stood by the fire with a drink in his hand and downed the rest of it when he heard the door opening and shut only seconds later. He seemed to be alone, and Harry was thankful because this meant he could properly scold the boy._

_“Where have you been all night?” Harry asks trying to convey his disappoint and anger to the boy. He noticed the state of the young man’s clothes, his cravat barely hanging around his neck exposing bare skin that Harry could see had earlier been abused by someone else’s lips. It made him see red with anger._

_“I was out with Henry.” Gary approaches him trying to lay a lazy hand on one of Harry’s shoulders._

_“You reek of smoke and liquor just where did he drag you to this time?” Harry helps the boy steady himself, “You’re much too young to be out this late and much too intoxicated,” He told the boy and received a disagreeing look from him._

_“We went to one of those smoking rooms, Persian I think it was…” The boy trailed on, but he was too drunk to recall anything else from that night._

_“And besides, Henry thinks I’m old enough,” He looks up at Harry who is still holding him up, “old enough for a lot of things actually.” He drags a finger lightly down Harry’s chest, and he notices the hitch in the older man’s breath._

_“Gary, I am not your father, so I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I will not tolerate your recent behavior and will no longer stick around to watch it either.”_

_Harry intends to walk away, but Gary moves further into his personal space and rises up on his toes to whisper in the man’s ear, “Harry, I know you’re not my father, but I’m not opposed to calling you Daddy either.”_

_Harry knew that he was being baited, and all his pent up anger and sexual frustration made it hard for him to decide between right and wrong. It also didn’t help that the eyes that looked up at him now, usually the most beautiful green, were blackened with lust._

_Before Harry could decide for himself what his next move would be, Gary crashed their lips together, his bottom lip immediately being sucked into the young man’s mouth. Gary pulled back suddenly causing their lips to make a lewd sound when they parted, “I always wanted to know what you taste like.” The smile that looked up at him was no longer innocent. He knew now that he had completely lost his precious boy._

_“Gary-“ Harry was silenced immediately when a hand cupped him, rubbing in a way that showed the boys inexperience, which made Harry very happy, but nonetheless stirred a heat in his lower belly causing him to slowly grow harder._

_Gary took advantage of the dazed Harry and pushed him down into the chair behind him, and climbed into his lap before he could protest. Harry watched with abated breath as Gary undid the button to his own pants revealing the boy’s fully hard erection behind cloth so thin it was rather see-through._

_He wanted to reach out and touch it, but he held onto the last bit of control he could muster. Gary, out of his own selfish need or maybe he had read his thoughts, grabbed Harry’s hand instead and began to rub himself with it. The heat of him burned Harry’s palm._

_Gary leaned forward and painfully slow, nipped and kissed tiny trails against the exposed skin of his neck. The boy let out a sweet moan and rocked his hips instinctively into Harry’s hand causing friction on his own hard erection, and Harry couldn’t suppress his anymore, letting out a deep growl that caught Gary’s attention._

_He stared at the boys reddened lips and back at his glossy eyes, and completely lost all focus of what was right. Harry threw their bodies to the carpeted floor and ripped open the young man’s shirt, doing the same to the useless thin cloth that covered him._

_Harry didn’t look at the boy, but immediately dove into the strip of hair that led up to his navel. He teased and abused the boy with all his frustration, biting down harder than necessary, possessively leaving teeth marks down his abdomen that would last for weeks, down to his hips which earned him sweet mewls, and lastly the boy’s salty inner thighs._

_Harry yanked them further into his lap until the boys arse was lifted off the floor, ripping open his own shirt and then began working open his own pants when he heard the boy call out his name in a hushed whimper._

_“Harry..”_

_The look the boy gave him was so pure and fragile as if he was looking at the painting of a cherub. His countenance filled with uncertainty and a hint of fear that quickly broke Harry from his lust-filled rage._

_“I-I’m so sorry, my precious boy, how could I do this to you..” Harry’s voice trailed off and he rose up quickly gathering his things and too ashamed to look back at the boy. But he could hear him calling out to him begging him not to go, and it broke his heart._

_“This is for the better.”_

Harry opened his eyes and they were already at the detention center. He was sure that Eggsy would be on his way out any moment now, but Harry waited for the detective to finish his phone call and leave before he got out of the cab.

“If I don’t help him then he will only escalate further down the wrong path. I can’t abandon him again even if he is bad for me.” Harry justifies quietly to himself as he remembers how Merlin had referred to Eggsy as his kryptonite unaware of how true his words were.

Moments later the boy was standing before him demanding to know who he was, and if Harry had to admit, he was a little disappointed that the boy did not recognize him. He was sure that if he did Harry would see it in the look on his face, but it was full of defensiveness something he was sure Eggsy used as a means to protect himself on the streets.

Harry glanced at Eggsy sparingly in the car hoping that the boy wouldn’t notice his curious stares. It had been the first time that he saw Gary as a grown man, well one that he could reach out and touch. And _oh_ did his curiosity dare him to.

He was a conundrum, a four-hundred year old enigma that Harry wanted to lock away in his home until he could figure out the answer. But what answer was he looking for, why all the other Harries fell for him, why no other Harry lived to be past the age of fifty-five after crossing paths with him, or why despite living most his life feeling four-hundred years’ worth of lust and yearning, his heart did not race in the way that he had thought it would.

His heart raced, but in fear. In fear of what is to happen to him because being already fifty-five himself, Harry was on borrowed time, but aside from the fear of his impending doom, Harry was afraid of how Eggsy would change him and he’d become like all the other Harries.

Harry wasn’t a complete stranger to intimacy although at one point he had been until he joined Kingsman and learned to truly appreciate friendship and comradery. Merlin had helped him, nearly breaking him in a sense as Harry was very stubborn to the idea of letting people in. But the intimacy of love he had never felt, and he wondered if that was a side effect of his reincarnation. So yes, Harry was afraid of his character changing, afraid to love someone, to walk away from that love, or to have finally know it and perish.

 Harry straightened his coat and sat back in front of Eggsy picking up his pint of Guinness and finishing the rest of it. Eggsy moments early had been fearing for Harry’s life, but now as he stared back at the older man he hoped that it didn’t show on his face how aroused he was and thoroughly impressed.

He should have known though that this Harry would be just as amazing as his soldier, and any hard feelings he had for the man on his earlier comments were gone now. He wondered if all the other Gary’s felt this way in the presence of Harry Hart, like they were a little star staring in the face of the big beautiful moon.

The thought made Eggsy feel ridiculous; he still wasn’t used to all the new thoughts and feelings that awakened in him after his fall. And even though they left him more confused than ever, he was just happy that they didn’t make him sick anymore. He shivered remembering that night.

When he came back from his thoughts, Harry was standing up with his wrist watch pointed at him. Eggsy knew what it was capable of and threw his hands up. He was sure that the man had said something to him, but he hadn’t heard a word of it.

“I aint ever grassed on anyone!” Eggsy quickly defends himself before Harry can dart him. Harry looks at him thoughtfully, he had no plans of giving the boy amnesia, but he wanted to at least intimidate him into silence. “I swear it.” Eggsy pleaded again.

“Yes I know.” Harry said and put down his arm, “Well if you need to find me, that’s where I’ll be.” Harry said slipping him a card and walked out of The Black Prince as if he didn’t just take on Dean’s goons without mussing up his perfectly groomed hair. Harry got back into the cab knowing that he would be seeing Eggsy soon.

It was fate after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book Spoiler!!: Anyone else catch my Dorian Gray/Basil Hallward references in this chapter? Eh? Eh? I ship them so bad (hence my pen name) although they are one of the unhealthiest pairings I’ve conceived, literally Dorian stabs Basil in the neck! Can’t get any unhealthier than that. But omg, they were so precious together while Dorian was still innocent although Basil was a little obsessive…anyways…. But don’t worry Eggsy wont stab Harry in the neck or will he?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Kingsman fic, ever! Also, I am new here. I am a California girl with no UK friends to help me out with the differences in speech, so I will be writing it the best I can from my very American vocabulary list. If anyone would like to beta and go through replacing needed words in future chapters let me know. I would be forever thankful for the help. With that said,  
> I love Shakespeare! And I took the chance to kind of take advantage of that and base the "first" known Harry Hart in my series off of Shakespeare. No, he's not Shakespeare himself he exists in that universe as his own self, but he goes through something similar as him having to tutor a young Earl's son and falls in love, writes prose and poetry about him, etc. I also added a line from Sonnet 30 in this chapter as well. If you read or are familiar with Sonnet 30 you'll catch it(sonnet 30 is also very relevant to all the HH's lives). Anyways, thank you to anyone who ends up reading this rubbish!  
> Analysis for those needing/wanting it http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/30detail.html  
> also idk how old or when Harry was born so I just went off of Colin Firths stuff so if anyone does let me know and Ill fix that!


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